


BBCSH 'Wall'  Part 2/?  [NC-17]

by tigersilver



Series: 'Wall' [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigersilver/pseuds/tigersilver





	BBCSH 'Wall'  Part 2/?  [NC-17]

Spoilers to the end of second series.    


  


II. 

There’s a wall in Sherlock’s mind he can’t make his way over. Doesn’t want to, doesn’t care to, most of the time. There are small footholds carved here and there (when he envisualizes it, it looks a bit like Hadrian’s) and he’s made some progress up, only to fall back at the base in a heap. It’s seemingly insurmountable, this wall, for all it’s not very high or broad or thick. There are times it’s paper-thin and he can literally feel people breathing, moving, _living_ on the other side (like onionskin or waxed paper, he even glimpses them, opaquely). John is, regrettably, one of the ones on the other side of the wall. Not by choice, perhaps, but Sherlock’s put him there firmly. For John’s safety; for his own. 

When he’s on his knees on his mattress, swaying as it bobbles, tacking another piece to the web, running yarn, making a note in blue ink on the white plaster, he feels as though the wall could be—might be—with a little help—torn down.  One day, not now. Maybe it will crumble?

Sometimes he tosses a trowel or a random pickaxe over, hoping it’ll reach his friend. Just to see what happens. 

But there are holes already. Sherlock’s very curious and even if he can’t be there with those on the other side, he very much needs to understand them. He _requires_ to observe. 

The keyhole in John’s bedroom door is one portal through which he can clearly view life on the other side of the wall. Mostly what he witnesses are private moments: John sleeping, John not sleeping, John pleasuring himself, same as Sherlock does occasionally. But far more often, of course. 

John’s got a decent sized dick for his relative height, he’s well-muscled if scarred, his skin looks very touchable limned in the deflected light from the streetlamps. When he breathes through an orgasm, it sounds very wet and inviting. Sherlock sees the tip of his tongue poking out black-red in the dim, glistening, and his lips, dry and parted. He mimics it, silently, having memorized the movements. He can almost repeat word for word whatever it is John calls out when he comes. He sees the twitch and roil of a body active in pleasuring itself and it’s rather awesomely inspiring. 

When he leaves the keyhole very late in the wee hours before dawn, kneecaps twinging, cramped from hours of not moving, not breathing too loudly, he generally takes a hot shower to relax and regroup. And wanks there, in the lav. John doesn’t know, naturally, but that’s satisfactory for now. What John doesn’t know may not hurt him. 

What hurts _Sherlock_ about this exercise is that John will cry out the name of a woman or the name of a man, though the latter less often, but he never so much as mouths Sherlock’s name. 

The wall always seems most solid and unbreachable at four in the morning. He plays his violin at it with a mad vigour because music, at least, can travel. 

  



End file.
